The Prognosticator
by Baka Gaijin30
Summary: First Doctor, Ian, Barbara and Vicki. Just how did the fourth Doctor get that infamous scarf of his anyways?


-The Prognosticator-

Disclaimer: I do not own Dr Who, the BBC does. This is therefore written just for fun and not for profit.

Author's Note: This story takes place between the TV episodes "The Web Planet" and "The Crusades."

--

-1-

"_Pity about the scarf. Madam Nostradamus made it for me. A witty little knitter." _

The fourth Doctor, in response to his scarf suffering damage at the hands of an automatic guard, from _The Ark in Space_.

--

She looked at herself in the full-length mirror, smoothing out her blouse and skirt as she did so. She couldn't wait to get out of her black dress; it reminded her too much of the last adventure she'd been through, with the giant ant-like Zarbi, the disgusting venom-grubs, and of course the horrid Animus. She closed her eyes and shuddered as she thought of the webbing covering her and the Doctor…

Suddenly, she felt something on her shoulder. With a start, she cried out and quickly spun around.

"Vicki! Vicki, it's me!"

"Barbara," Vicki said, a sigh of relief escaping her, "I'm sorry, I thought…"

"It's alright," the teacher said, offering a reassuring smile as she rubbed Vicki's shoulder, "After what happened on Vortis, it's a wonder we aren't all jumping at our own shadows."

"Is everything alright in there?" a voice called from outside the room.

"Yes Ian," Barbara called back, "Vicki just got a bit jumpy." Turning back to the younger woman, she once more smiled down at her, "Come on, let's join Ian and the Doctor out in the control room."

Vicki nodded her head, and the two walked out to see Ian watching on as the Doctor fussed about with the TARDIS controls, the old man muttering to himself as he seemed to chuckle a bit over nothing.

"Hmmm, yes, yes quite. I think that'll do, yes…"

"Doctor, where are we going to now?" Vicki asked, a bit of trepidation evident in her voice, "We're not in any danger of being pulled down somewhere off course again, are we?"

"I should hope not," Ian quipped, "After having to deal with those grunting Optera the last thing I want is to end up once more heaven knows where or when."

"Now, now, patience my boy," the Doctor admonished, putting his hand in his lapel as he continued, "It wasn't my fault the Animus sucked down the TARDIS, and anyways, I very much doubt such a thing is probable to happen again."

"But Doctor…" Vicki interrupted.

"Here now, my child," the Doctor said, his demeanor lightening as he went over to the young woman and hugged her close, "I know you've been through a lot. Hmmm, I should think we all have, haven't we?" he said with a smile as he gazed around the room, "Yes, which is why I've decided we need a vacation."

"A vacation?" Barbara asked suspiciously as she came further into the room, "Exactly what sort of vacation do you have in mind?"

"You shall see," the Doctor replied with a bemused expression, "Yes young lady, you shall see."

--

The robed figure stole silently into the darkened study, the only light in the room coming from the tapered candle he bore with him. Pulling his favorite stool over to the oak table before him, he lit a bit of incense, poured fresh water into a small bronze basin, and set the candle behind the basin. Taking up his wand, he sat upon the stool and slowly inserted the wand into the still water. He slowed his breathing down ever so slightly, and watched.

Slowly, bit by bit, images once more began to show themselves within the waters. Visions of a tyrant with a funny little mustache whose hypnotic voice swayed millions, an air ship bursting into flames as people ran for their lives away from it, and a destructive device, dropped from a flying machine, creating an explosion as bright as the sun, flashed before his mind. As always, the scenes progressed in quick succession, with one confusingly blending into another. He'd long ago given up on making complete sense out of all he saw; it was impossible anyways, given there was no sound to go along with the images. Instead, he kept pen, ink and paper next to him, quickly scribbling as best he could what he witnessed.

As he continued to gaze, a new image appeared before him. Given the cataclysmic nature of the other images, this one seemed completely mundane and out of place. Why would he suddenly be seeing a blue box with "Police" written upon it? He stroked his long beard thoughtfully as he tried to make sense of it, his dark brown eyes staring intensely at the vision…

"Papa," a boy's voice called from outside the room, "Papa, your patron Mademoiselle De Medici has sent another envoy to you. Will you see him?"

The images faded into the obscurity of the water once more. With a sigh, he turned to the door.

"Tell her majesty's envoy that I will see him momentarily." As his son's footsteps faded off, he poured out the water and snuffed the incense. Taking up his candle, he left the darkened chamber and walked out into the sunlit patio.

--

The large pasture was full of the scents of spring flowers and fresh manure, the sun shining warmly on the dozen or so milking cows contentedly wandering about eating grass and hay left for them within their fenced enclosure. As a flock of geese flew overhead, returning with the warmer weather, one of the cows heard a low humming sound, the bell around her neck ringing as she turned to see the TARDIS materialize just outside the wooden fence, the ship nestled under the shade of a large elm. After a few seconds of watching the new object do nothing but sit there, the animal snorted lightly and turned away, content to focus on chewing its cud.

"Where are we?" Barbara asked as she stepped forth first, the teacher looking around her at the cow pasture and the small adjacent farm in the distance.

"I don't know," Vicki responded, making a face as she brought her hand up and pinched her nostrils together, "But it stinks."

"That would be the cows I should imagine," the Doctor said as he stepped forth in his cape and black cap.

"Doctor, is this where you've brought us to vacation?" Ian asked incredulously, "A cow farm in the English countryside?"

"Certainly not, my dear boy," the Doctor said, "We're not in England. We're in Renaissance France, near Provence. And unless I miss my guess," he said as he pointed to a nearby dirt path, "We should be able to find our way to less odiferous and more cheerful company that way."

Leading the way, he began to trek towards the road, with Vicki not far behind. Ian and Barbara took up the rear, the teachers' stolen glances at one another showing their shared exasperation.

Just as the Doctor and his party reached the road, the sounds of a horse drawn wagon could be heard coming up from the hill behind them. It was driven by a short, stocky fellow wearing plain enough drab brown clothes and a straw hat, a blade of grass hanging from his bearded lips. Seated next to him was a clean-shaven lanky man dressed in black, his ears covered by his shoulder length grey hair.

"Here now," the driver said as the wagon came up to the quartet, "You look like strangers 'round these parts. Are you lost?"

"Well…" Ian began.

"Er, as a matter of fact, yes," the Doctor said, interrupting the teacher as he addressed the simple peasant. "Yes, we're lost. Could you tell us the way to Provence?"

"I could do better than that," the driver said cheerfully, "As long as you don't mind the straw in the back, I could give the four of you a ride there. The Cure'," he said as he motioned with his head to the priest seated next to him, "Is just coming back from administering final rites to a neighbor of mine. I can drop you off with him, if you'd like."

The Doctor smiled, "Yes," he said, laughing in his familiar way as he motioned for the others to follow him into the back of the wagon, "I think we would like that quite nicely."

"By the way," the driver began as Ian and the Doctor helped Vicki and Barbara in, "My name's Pierre, and this is Father LaPierre."

The priest nodded gravely at them. "Dominus vobiscum," he said as he made the sign of the cross in their direction. He frowned slightly when none of the four crossed themselves in response.

"Happy to meet you both. Yes, quite happy," the Doctor responded. "This is Vicki, over there are Ian and Barbara, and I'm the Doctor."

"Doctor?" Father LaPierre asked in alarm, "You mean an apothecary?"

The Doctor chuckled, "Well, I…"

"We used to have an apothecary," Pierre spoke up, "Only…"

"Only he's now in league with Satan and the devils."

"Satan?" Vicki asked.

"I know not if he's in league with the devil," the driver put in, "But Michel de Nostredame has definitely undergone a change of recent years."

"Nostredame?" Ian asked, "You mean _Nostradamus_?"

"Aye, that's him," the driver said. "He used to be our apothecary, that is until his first wife and two children perished of the plague. Then, he left for Italy, and when he came back he began to see things."

"See things?" the Doctor asked in puzzlement.

"They say that, during his absence, the apothecary sold his soul to the devil." The priest said in a hushed tone.

The Doctor exchanged glances briefly with Father LaPierre, and then turned back to Ian. "Ian, my boy," he whispered, the sound of the horse's hooves against the dirt road and the creaking of the wagon wheels serving to hide his words, "You seemed to recognize the name of this apothecary they speak of. Tell me what you know."

"Only that Nostradamus was supposed to be able to see into the future," Ian answered in a hushed tone. "If you believe what's written about him, he saw everything from the London bridge fire to the rise of Napoleon."

"Really?" The Doctor said, a smile spreading across his face as his eyes lit up. "Interesting. Yes, yes, very interesting…"

"Uh oh," Barbara whispered over to Vicki. "The Doctor's got that look again."

Vicki sighed. "I guess this is going to turn into a _working_ vacation, isn't it?" No sooner had the words escaped her mouth, than the wagon came around a turn in the road that led into a heavily populated city.

"Here we are," the driver announced cheerfully. "Welcome to Provence."

--

-To Be Continued-

End Notes: Sorry the first chapter's so short, but subsequent chapters should be longer. Also, I've never written Dr Who before, so please don't be too unkind in your reviews.


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